Ever since 3.17, whenever I look at Blaine’s face in this moment I can’t stop thinking of what must have been going through Blaine’s mind here.
Just look at how happy he is, and how he’s staring at Kurt with a kind of utter amazement. He was probably just so keen to revel in that perfect, perfect moment—a moment when they weren’t talking about New York or NYADA, a moment when he didn’t have to think about the future and the loneliness which that held for him—and he could just relish the way Kurt’s hand felt so secure around his waist, the way Kurt’s shoulder felt so strong under his arm, and the way it felt so good to be that close to him, even if it was just for a dance. Feelings that he could relish and then memorize and store and pull out again to wrap around himself in six months when the choir room is much more empty and the McKinley hallways a much darker place without Kurt there to brighten them.
Kurt’s not even looking at him right here. This is just Blaine, completely unguarded and so very much in love.
